


only if you carry me

by Moransroar



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Assassin Peter Parker, Barebacking, Car Sex, Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mob Boss Bucky Barnes, Sex in a Car, Spit As Lube, Unsafe Sex, like blink and you miss it mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: “Didn’t they ever tell you never to bring a knife to a gun fight, baby boy?”Bucky’s voice is calm and amused. Peter realizes he’s got the end of the barrel of a gun pressing firmly into his abdomen. Bucky shoves it in a little harder until Peter almost winces, and slowly takes the knife away from where it’s rested against James’ throat.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 339





	only if you carry me

Peter’s close. He’s so very close.

So close he can touch him.

He’s done worse than this before, worse than pretending to be someone else in order to get close enough to an already difficult target to kill them and get his job over with. He wants to go home and feed his cats and watch some television. It feels like it’s been days since he’s been home for anything but to get a quick few hours of sleep, maybe a meal if he was lucky and felt like he had enough time for it.

James Buchanan Barnes is a tough son of a bitch to get close to. It’s not what Peter expected when he first took the job. He expected a pretty easy target, just another guy who’s done something wrong to someone, which was none of Peter’s business in the slightest, but as he got closer to the target he realized that there was probably more to him than meets the eye.

And there is. And it’s infuriating.

Peter has come to terms with the fact that he’s after someone who owns what is probably one of the biggest drug cartels in New York City, if not _the biggest_ , because he’s found an easy way in.

It turns out that James Buchanan Barnes has a soft spot for men. Specifically somewhat younger, eager men.

And Peter sometimes thinks he still has to grow out of some of the baby fat on his cheeks. Right now, it might even work in his favor.

He’s agreed to meet James (Please, darling, _Bucky_ ) for dinner, and once they get past the whole ‘I’ve never seen you around before’ spiel, he feels safe enough thinking that Bucky is buying his lies.

They have dinner which Bucky pays for, he forces conversation and the occasional hand down Bucky’s thigh, and Peter can’t help but think that if this had been any other situation he might have actually enjoyed it too.

But this is a man he’s planning on killing and leaving dead in the back of his own car before the end of the night. Hopefully it won’t get traced back to him because Peter’s been very careful. The dinner was a last-minute type of thing after they ‘accidentally’ ran into each other in the street that morning, which had sent Peter’s cup of coffee flying and oh, James was adamant to make up for it once Peter had fluttered his lashes at him a couple of times.

Things should never be that easy.

When their dinner is over with and they move out, Bucky sees Peter shiver and drapes his jacket over the younger man’s shoulders. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Peter was about to kill him, he might have thought that was sweet.

Bucky is far more chivalrous than he could have expected of a man like him. He smiles soft, his touches gentle, his words encouraging. Peter can see how many must have fallen for him before he came along. But it’s not important.

What is important, is that he now has Bucky’s jacket. Protection. He zips it up all the way and wraps his hands around Bucky’s offered arm as they start to walk back to the car. He doesn’t doubt that Bucky thinks he’s coming home with him, that he’s going to let Bucky take him to bed and explore whatever filthy kinks he might have up his sleeve with a young thing such as himself.

Peter briefly wonders what must have happened to his predecessors. The boys who came before him. He hasn’t looked into it, so for all he knows he has a whole harem at home and is planning on adding Peter to his collection of little sex slaves. He doesn’t think a man like James can afford to let boys like Peter go after a night together – although he’s been discreet about what he really does for a living so far. The men before Peter probably walked right into Bucky’s trap of money and good looks.

Maybe he’s a good kisser, too. He looks like he would be.

They get into the backseat of the car and, as expected, when Peter glances faux nervously through the open partition at the back of the driver’s head, Bucky just smiles at him reassuringly and reaches over to slide the partition shut.

“There,” he says, a large, warm hand landing on Peter’s knee, “Some privacy.”

Some privacy indeed. Peter slowly climbs into Bucky’s lap, which as the man’s brows rise in a pleased but surprised way, his own hands settling on the man’s shoulders while Bucky’s settle on his hips. Their new position allows him to be able to reach for the razor sharp knife holstered along his ankle with which he plans to cut his target’s throat.

If he does it right, this can be over in under a minute.

Bucky’s hands smooth up his hips and to his waist and then down again to pull him closer into his lap. If Peter wasn’t so focused he might have enjoyed those kinds of touches. He is always working, always on the job, and rarely has time for things outside of that. Relationships, friends, the like. He’s chosen that lifestyle because it’s made him the best damn assassin around. His dedication is unmatched, and he’s perfected his level of skill in a much shorter time than others might have. He’s good at what he does and he’s proud of it.

But he does allow himself to indulge in a kiss.

He doesn’t stop Bucky when he leans forward and captures his lips with his own, pulling at his hips until their bodies are flush together. Like this, Peter can’t get in between them well enough to finish the job, but it will probably be over soon anyway, right?

Incorrect.

Bucky kisses like he’s willing to make Peter suffocate for it.

He holds him tightly in his lap and nips at his lower lip and traces the seam of his mouth until Peter can’t do anything other than gasp into the kiss and allow Bucky’s tongue entrance to his mouth.

It’s slick and it’s warm and Bucky tastes like the chocolate dessert they shared and Peter can’t stop the soft sound that bubbles up in his throat at a particularly delicious swipe of the other man’s tongue.

But he reminds himself he has a mission. He can’t think with his dick. Especially not right now.

So he reaches for the holster and moans to disguise the sound of the sheath opening, one hand wrapping firmly around the handle of the knife while the other one fists into Bucky’s hair, and he pulls his head back at the same moment as he brings the knife up—

And he feels something cold press into his stomach, just under his shirt.

Peter’s eyes focus on Bucky’s face up close and he sees the way he’s watching him. 

“Didn’t they ever tell you never to bring a knife to a gun fight, baby boy?”

Bucky’s voice is calm and amused. Peter realizes he’s got the end of the barrel of a gun pressing firmly into his abdomen. Bucky shoves it in a little harder until Peter almost winces, and slowly takes the knife away from where it’s rested against James’ throat.

“You can drop that into the foot hold for me. Go on.”

Peter does as he’s told and drops the knife, knows it probably disappears under the seats somewhere. Even if he manages to get to it, it’s unlikely he’ll grab it in time.

He stubbornly refuses to let go of Bucky’s hair though. He scolds himself. Stupid. So stupid. He was too caught up in the kiss to notice that one of Bucky’s hands had dropped from his waist, too focused on the swipe of Bucky’s tongue and how it felt to be kissed after _so long_.

How could he let something like this distract him enough to warrant dropping his guard and make a fatal mistake like that?

Peter knows he’s not going to get out of this alive. And if he does, it’s going to be through some sheer force of luck.

Bucky lets out a slow breath and the press of the gun on Peter’s abdomen eases up just a touch, which in turn has Peter’s grip on Bucky’s hair loosen enough that the man can lean forward and brush an unexpected kiss to Peter’s jaw.

“It’s a pity,” he says, “I actually really liked you, too.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Peter huffs back.

The gun shifts, pulls away, and Peter can see from the corner of his eye how it’s lowered, until he feels it press up against his crotch where, until now, he didn’t realize that he’s hard in his jeans.

“I’m doing no such thing, sweetheart.”

Peter tries to inch away, curve his back to get away from the chill pressing up against his cock, but Bucky’s one remaining hand on his hip still keeps him firmly in place.

“Don’t worry. If it’s any consolation, I’m not doing any better myself.”

It’s not a consolation, no, but… At least he’s still got it, Peter thinks. Bucky continues.

“You’re quiet, all of a sudden. Cat got your tongue? I figured you’d at least _try_ to talk yourself out of this one.”

Peter gives a small smile. “I’m just waiting for you to decide whether or not you’re going to pull the trigger. It’s taking you longer than I expected.”

That has Bucky smiling, too, and he kisses Peter’s chin again, knowing that he could do anything he wants to do to him right now. He has the upper hand in the form of a gun. The man seems to consider this for a moment.

“I’m trying to figure out if it’s worth it to put my gun away and continue what we were doing before you tried to kill me.” Peter looks down to Bucky’s neck and sees that he left a little nick, but nothing more. There’s a small drop of blood gathered somewhere in the middle, but it’s the type of cut that isn’t even going to leave a scar. He came close, but not close enough.

Peter licks his lips. “Only one way to find out.”

It takes James a minute to make up his mind before he slowly retreats his gun from Peter’s crotch, switches on the safety, and drops it back into a compartment in the side of the door that Peter hadn’t even noticed before. It’s probably where he keeps it.

The compartment clicks shut, and Bucky forces their lips together again.

With their primary weapons out of the way, clothes start to come off quickly – especially Peter’s. James is clearly eager to get naked, and whether that’s because he wants to make sure he’s not carrying any more weapons or because he can’t wait to sink Peter onto his cock is unclear, but Peter is happy to comply regardless.

He tears at Bucky’s shirt himself when he gets impatient with the buttons on it, and moves his hands over the man’s chest, over old and new scars and through a light dusting of hair over his clavicle while Bucky shoves two fingers into Peter’s mouth. The digits are slightly salty on his tongue but he moves the muscle around them enthusiastically, laving at them until they’re spit-slick and glistening when Bucky pulls them out with a softly muttered word of praise.

Bucky grabs at Peter’s ass and parts his cheeks to bluntly press in one of the slick fingers, and Peter’s breath hitches as he pushes a little farther than his body can handle. He clenches down but Bucky’s mouth on his collarbone helps him relax until he’s rocking back against Bucky’s hand and a second finger is added.

There’s not enough spit to properly ease Bucky’s way, but Peter can’t find it in himself to care, and the more Bucky curls his fingers into a spot that has Peter’s already hard and leaking cock ache some more, the more he loosens up for the intrusion.

Peter takes it upon himself so undo the front of Bucky’s pants and pulls his cock out to stroke it, moaning when Bucky retaliates by forcing his fingers in that little bit deeper.

“I can take it,” Peter breathes. Bucky doesn’t look entirely convinced but also too horny to care.

“If you say so,” he murmurs, and retreats his hand to spit into his palm and give himself a rough few strokes.

He pulls Peter closer until their chests are aligned and Peter can reach behind himself to guide Bucky’s cock to his fluttering hole, sitting back against the large head until he feels his body yield to swallow him down – slowly at first, and then quickly all at once with the help of an impatient roll of Bucky’s hips.

Peter keens when he settles fully into Bucky’s lap, the hand with which he guided Bucky’s cock now braced on the man’s knee, thighs shaking.

He’s big. Feels bigger than he looks. But Peter’s rocking back before he has even adjusted properly.

Bucky’s hands are on his hips helping him move, his eyes on how Peter’s cock, curled against his stomach and blushed red, draws a little line of precome between the head and Peter’s belly every time they touch with another roll of Peter’s hips.

“ _Fuck_ , baby boy,” Bucky sighs.

Peter’s eyes close as he concentrates on the feeling of Bucky’s cock inside him, stretching him, pressing into all the spots he never seems to be able to reach when he’s by himself. Even without Bucky touching him he’s not going to last very long, but he keeps up his pace, chasing that feeling of heat swirling just behind his belly button.

When Bucky wraps an unexpected hand around his cock Peter cries out when suddenly he can’t hold back any longer. Bucky curses beneath him and rocks up harshly a few times, undoubtedly taking advantage of how tight Peter’s become, stroking him roughly through his orgasm until he stills with a grunt and Peter can feel how he empties himself inside of him.

They’re both panting as they slow to a stop, Peter’s hole still twitching around Bucky’s cock, milking him for everything he’s got. Bucky mouths at Peter’s neck and shoulder like he just can’t get enough of him, and Peter’s too fucked out to even consider pushing him away.

It feels too good, anyway.

He doesn’t move from Bucky’s lap, and Bucky doesn’t make him.

The car has stopped moving, Peter notices absently, they’ve probably arrived at their destination – wherever that may be – and might have already been there for God knows how long.

Killing Bucky has long since left the forefront of his mind. He’s not thinking about his mission anymore. He’s thinking about how good it feels to be filled, how he can’t believe it’s taken him this long to give in to something like this again.

Bucky pulls back to look at him and it draws Peter’s attention.

“Ready to go inside?” Bucky asks. Peter looks skeptical for a moment.

“Depends,” he muses, “What’s going to happen inside?”

The way Bucky’s hand tightens its grip on his hip and effectively pushes Bucky’s still half-hard cock deeper into him, gives Peter enough of an indication.

He doesn’t have to think hard about it, which probably isn’t a good sign.

To hell with his mission anyway.

“Fine. But only if you carry me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a request I got on Tumblr. [Come send me a prompt!](https://iloveyou3thousand.tumblr.com/)


End file.
